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Relief flooded Cole.
That is, until he noted the humor in his friend’s gaze and glanced down at the paper Andrew had handed him. A three was in the upper right-hand stocking on his friend’s paper, too.
Great.
Cole would be collecting toys with Sophie.
Chapter Three
After Sophie finished handing out the papers, she spotted her sister on the other side of the room. Isabelle must’ve snuck in late after closing the quilt shop. When Sophie joined her, Isabelle demanded, “That’s Cole Aaron?”
“Stop staring,” Sophie hissed through gritted teeth, swatting at her sister’s arm.
“How did I miss him at Ruby’s?”
“He didn’t stay long.” Sophie had been acutely aware of the firefighter from the moment he and Andrew had arrived that day and had been disappointed at how quickly the two men had left.
When Sophie had seen Chief Callahan here, she’d wondered if she’d bump into Cole.
When she’d stepped up to his table and looked into those icy blue eyes, she’d barely been able to breathe. The man got under her skin, that was for sure.
For his part, he’d barely acknowledged her presence. Guess that told her he hadn’t changed his mind about how he felt. He wanted nothing to do with her. Ever.
That left Sophie feeling as if she’d lost something precious. Which made no sense. She didn’t know him.
Only…she did. She’d gone through such an intense emotional journey reading his journal that she felt as if he was an intimate friend rather than a simple acquaintance.
Still straining to look toward Cole, Isabelle’s brows lifted. “I understand now why you keep talking about him. He is cute.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. There her sister went with the “cute” talk again. “I haven’t mentioned him since the day I went to the firehall.”
She hadn’t. Not a single word to Isabelle, and barely more than that when her friend Sarah had asked if she’d found the owner of the journal. Sophie had glossed over her meeting with Cole then, and had only told Isabelle that he’d refused the book. Revealing his refusal to anyone else had seemed as if she would be exposing his vulnerability, so she’d kept it to herself.
She might not have mentioned his name out loud, but Sophie had thought about Cole since then. A lot.
As in, way too often throughout every single day.
She’d reread his diary, trying to imagine the quiet man with a pen in his hand, pouring his emotions onto the pages of the book. His fingers gripping the pen tightly as he bore down on the paper, firing words onto emptiness in attempt to rid himself of the nightmares inside of him.
Isabelle said, “I may start schoolgirl-crushing on him, too.”
Sophie squinted at her sister.
“Oh, fine. I won’t get in a tizzy over him.” Isabelle glanced over at where Cole sat with Ben and Andrew. “Are you going to ask if he’s changed his mind about the journal?”
“No.” Sophie snorted at Isabella’s suggestion. She’d seen the narrowing of those pale eyes when she’d handed him his flyer. It was clear he wished he’d never met her.
In a way, she could understand where that distaste was coming from. What guy wanted anyone to know how vulnerable he was on the inside? Especially a tough ex-Marine firefighter?
Maybe, at some point in the future, she could make him understand that she hadn’t judged him harshly because of what she’d read but rather that she viewed him with compassion. Perhaps if she told him about her work with the Quilts of Valor Foundation, he’d understand that she and others like her made quilts for military personnel past and present to comfort and help them heal after traumatic experiences exactly like the ones he’d written about.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to wrap Cole in a quilt?
To drape lovingly sewn material around his wounded warrior shoulders, letting the cotton fabric hug him, as she welcomed him home?
“Sophie? You’d best snap to it before Maybelle calls you out on your daydreaming,” Isabelle warned, nudging Sophie with her elbow.
Having no idea what she was supposed to be snapping to, Sophie looked to her sister for guidance.
